4.08.2013

Fondo negro / Armando Rojas Guardia

Black Background

Clean and cold, the December night
is the perfect image of my soul:
Caracas burns outside, indifferent,
while I am a hole
s o v e r y l i g h t
where the minutes fall floating.
I think of nothing now. And want nothing.
No obligation. No agenda.
Barely this weightless quiet
to fill with music (Satie, perhaps)
and slow cigarettes and silence
and the black dream of peace, empty.